Tyranny of King Washington: The Rebirth
by psyclops
Summary: With the Apple of Eden, George Washington now holds the key to become a god. However, low on Templar influence, there is only one way to bring the group back. Connor now facing old opponents, it is a fight against time and power. But one Templar decides to go to the other side...
1. Prologue

**Prologue:**

An eagle dotted the gray-blue sky. It soared for a few more moments and then settled atop a smooth, thin branch of a tree with its deep black predator talons making scratches against the dense bark. The branch shook a bit, but nothing to the extreme. The eagle made sure it was quiet. With the sunlight reflecting upon the eagle's brown feathers, the bird watched from above staring down a figure with gray wolf skin on top; and much like the beast, the figure ran slashing down its enemies, the red coats, without a hint of mercy or woe. Cries of both surprised and dying men rang along the trees and the wooden fort that surrounded them. Several wolves could be heard howling in the distance, possibly smelling the new fangled blood being splattered carelessly across the ground. The guards were now nothing but mincemeat. The wolverine figure navigated its way across the gory obstacles of violently amputated arms and severed heads until it stumbled upon another group of intrepid guards. But they did not have much time to rely on for they soon became an addition to the meal before them. And the wolf pressed on without a second to lose. The eagle adjusted its sights and tinkered with its white feathered head. Something bright was up ahead. The wolf continued moving on, getting farther and farther away from which it came. Its panting breath could be heard in the distance as the animal fought its way against nature's snow, the white tundra getting more and deeper and thus unforgiving. But the light still brightened. Even with the scenery being of a pure white, completely covering the tracks of what was once fall, the yellow light continued to show itself as the dominant color against all colors of the winter, although the sun gently floated behind it all. Suddenly, the eagle decided to pounce, flying towards another branch closest to the wolf and setting a firm talon grip there. The figure had also stopped and across from it stood another predator. Old, weary, but also had the look to kill. By weary, the elder also meant tired of whatever this sly wolf has done. The older one spoke, firm and dry. Perhaps the elder was also a bit dehydrated, "You… You have caused enough trouble, assassin!" The wolf assassin retorted, "And you would make a difference?! I _will_ put an end to your despotism, Washington! This time, you _will_ lay dead and the apple _will_ be in my hands!"

"Imprudent child!" Washington threw a small children's fit and pivoted back. The assassin came rushing towards the elder, tomahawk in hand, when an unexpected force tossed the wolf back like a rag doll at about twenty-five feet. The snow was soft, but from being thrown at such unbelievable speed, it made tiny scratches of blood across the assassin's half-nude body and face. The wolf growled. The elder screeched in command, "Kill HIM!" The wolf finally managed to get back on its feet, but so did these strange beings that literally rose from the white that covered them. With red, deep eyes, the creatures wore brown clothing with bronze armor. _Demons? Monsters?_ But now would not be the time to think. The wolf had to act fast as more strange people kept rising from the snow. With a cry, the assassin came charging through the snow and into one of the first monsters, tomahawk breaking the marriage between the creature's head and body. But the action was much smoother than usual and the wolf saw why. With its sky blue eyes, the wolf did not see blood, but instead, a black ghoulish vapor that dispersed within the air including the body that it was contained in. As much as it was surprising, there was still no time to think about it as more and more ghouls kept creeping in. Like before, the assassin busted through the rest of them, slashing and ignoring what was happening to the beings as they fell. Surprisingly, they did not attack much. Just gave the assassin a sinister gaze. But it was Washington once more who did the attack. Another strong force recklessly tossed the wolf away about the same distance. The eagle perching above turned around and then looked back. "_Hmph_," Washington spat. The assassin replied, "If you really wanted a fight, why did you not give me one?" He came back to his feet. The elder laughed a little and honestly said, "You know what? I'm not sure. Perhaps I just wanted to show you what I am really made of."

"_Heh_," the assassin scoffed, wiping blood off the corner of his left lip. "Of that?"

"No." Washington's voice grew darker. "Of this." With another strike with the Apple, the ground shook an absolute earthquake terrifying many of the animals from their wake and from their hibernation. Nothing cracked, but the snow was even more grueling eating up the assassin's legs like quicksand. Washington, however, showed no struggle at all walking along the snow, edging a little closer to his enemy, foot by dawdling foot. The gray wolf was about to break when suddenly he became consumed with electric energy, another strike from the Apple. The energy was strong and held the assassin to his knees, chest and arms out in total distress. From this, the Earth below became relaxed once again. The old man grinned which made the eagle's blood quiver, "Connor, Connor, Connor… You are very weak-minded, thinking that you can just magically snatch the Apple from me and run away naked as though from that, rules are no longer bound." The electricity surrounding Connor got stronger and stronger as Washington got closer and closer. "You think you can defeat me? You think that you have enough power in your weak little heart to even lay a scratch on me? Well, you are wrong, assassin. In fact, you are _dead _wrong." With one more strike with the Apple, the electricity stabbing throughout the insides and outsides of Connor stopped with a near deadly blow, a good handful of blood sprouting out of the assassin's mouth. Right after the blood tainted the snow below him, the rest of the wolf's body fell with eyes rolled back. Washington smiled once more, "Ah, but I did not kill you… yet. You know what? I would rather torture you… slowly. Like during the middle ages. Slowly stretching you and stretching you until you become bear skin on the floor." There were his last words before walking back and ordering several more red coats to escort Connor's unconscious body far away from the fort, back into the deep frontier. Amazingly, the same eagle from before followed Connor's body as it watched him being heartlessly dragged, one of the soldier's hands gripping him by his left wrist, across the dirt and then left to rot randomly in the middle of the forest floor. Several rabbits scattered away from the abrupt sound of crushed leaves caused by heavy boots. And once the red coats walked their way back to base, the eagle flew down and perched itself on Connor's chest. The eagle stared at his face with its black pupils. The blood stopped flowing from Connor's mouth. Good. And he's still breathing. Even better. Many scratches were left all around his chest and some on his face, but it happens. Nothing to deep or to dangerous. Nothing that the eagle cannot handle-until the night comes to cover the day, in fact. The eagle shook its small, dark-gray tricorne hat off its white head. The feathered friend must protect the wolf against all costs within the night. After all, the assassin is his son.


	2. Chapter 1: Snake Eyes

A thick hiss tickled Washington's ears gently. The former British general sat menacingly on his makeshift throne, the bottom wide and the back tall, with his legs across. His kingdom was all underground, right beneath the loud streets of Boston. Washington watched boringly at his red coat minions below as they continued with the construction of the underground kingdom like little red ants. Rock picks were biting the Earth's walls, wagons were breaking beneath the weight of various-sized rocks, and individual groups of soldiers would transfer materials across the huge cavern. From afar and somewhat above, Washington sighed and played with the Apple in his hands, its yellow light dancing around his dry palms. "Soon, I shall have complete control over this spectacular artifact, and perhaps then, I shall create new ways to advance the technologies of this world." The same hiss as before elated Washington's old his ears once more, but now accompanied with a sharp and sinister voice. "Agreed. With the Apple, all shall be powerful and our civilization shall grow to become the most prominent!" The voice then revealed itself to be a full-grown European Viper with its glossy, black scales and its deep red demonic eyes. The snake hovered across the ground towards Washington with such gorgeous speed. Tiny rocks that would even make a human lose their balance did not stutter the true nature of snake movement. It slithered up onto Washington's lap where it then curled itself around the Apple, covering the light with almost complete black. Its pink tongue flickered in the air.

"It will all be soon." Washington spoke, his voice now deep and reverberating. He adjusted his posture. "It will all be soon… The new generation of man. The new generation of the world."

"Ah, yes…" The snake hissed. "I cannot wait until the day, sir. The day when people start taking a bite out of the Apple." The viper tightened its black-bodied grip. "So much sin, Mister Washington. So much sin."

"_Heh_, perhaps." Washington gave a wild grin. "But I am afraid that I am already giving in into temptation. Damn you… Charles Lee."

The snake followed the same grin, but instead with fangs protruding out of his peach mouth. "Do not damn me for your actions, Washington. All I ever wanted to do was give humanity a little bit more _knowledge_."


	3. Chapter 2: Next Day

"Father, how you could be so sloppy and ungrateful!"

"Sloppy?! Ungrateful?! I am grateful! That is why I am eating!"

"Yes, but there is no need to watch you ravenously chew your way through everything like a wolf without any deer for months!"

"I have not fed my stomach in years!"

"But you are dead! How can you possibly feed your stomach?!"

"Do not ask questions you do not want to know the answer to!"

"What does that have to do with the situation that is in front of us?"

"Would you be quiet and let me eat in peace! My God, son! You are just like your mother!"

"I am rather surprised that my mother has decided to spend part of her life with a monstrosity of a bear like you!"

"I am not listening."

"_Ugh!_ I cannot take this anymore!"

"You are such a child, Connor!"

"A child?! After you are done, I am left cleaning up the waste that _you_ have left for me!"

"Cheer up, nobody has asked you to clean after me."

"Hm. Then you shall clean up after yourself?"

"No. The thing is that… I have not bothered to ask you yet, but now since I am finished," Haytham swallowed his last chunk of deer meat. "May you please clean this up for me?"

Connor exploded. "You are the _worst_ father ever!"

Haytham let out a loud burp. "I love you too, son."

_Grr…_ Connor snatched the dishes and went off to go clean them. Haytham could not suppress the smile that crawled across his face. Surely, he started his own son's morning with complete gluttonous mayhem, but it was just what he needed. Haytham felt as though he was getting ever closer to his son by arguing with him about the usual. He has also learned about Connor's obsessiveness to clean. The eagle stood up and began walking out the door but not without catching something at the corner of his left eye. The manor, despite being huge, felt quite small with its closely knit and wide open rooms. There he spotted a black hat matched with a black cane. The hat hung on the back of the chair as the cane was settled across the seat of it. It was a memorial.

"His name was Achilles," Connor interrupted before Haytham could step any closer. "He was owner of his manor as well as my mentor." Haytham took a glance at his son and then back at the memorial. He then edged his sights a little more to the upper right, where a painting hung over the fireplace. The eagle pointed. "Was that him and his family?"

"Yes. Achilles did not want it to be hung at first, but once his soul has left from the physical world, I have decided to hang it now. Perhaps it holds to many memories that Achilles was not yet prepared to face once again." Haytham looked down at the clean wooden flooring for a few moments. He thought of his own memories. "He must have been a great man to you."

Connor replied in a firm voice, "He was all I had left of a family."

Several silent moments passed again before Haytham could respond. "I understand, son." Connor's father then took his leave outside the front of the manor, not sure of where he will end up going. He just needed some time for himself and his son could sense it. Connor sighed through his nose and took leave off to a nearby waterfall to cleanse.

Eagles could be heard squawking in the distance. The birds would be nothing more than a large_ v_ in the sky, but at times, one could see the separation of the primaries, like fingers stretching out hoping to touch something that is ever distant from them. Haytham followed suit with his namesake brethren, stretching out his arms and fingers away from his body. He bent himself over, allowing his arms to rise slightly higher than his back. A full bird-like stretch. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. He felt his black ponytail and cape flutter in the wind, the cape generating a tune with the wind that slightly mesmerized the elder eagle. His talons pointed closely to the edge of small rock cliff. Another eagle's call softly reverberated through Haytham's ears. He was now one with the wind. The perfect incarnation of the eagle. Haytham slowly opened his eyes to the world again and leapt onto a tree branch in front of him. The branch bent under his weight but did not give way. He then closed his eyes once more and gave a another deep breath. Once open to the world again, the eagle decided to leap from tree to tree, cape as his wings. He decided to leave his tricorn hat at the manor as well as the rest his special Grand Master uniform. All he wore was a simple white ruffled shirt tucked under his black pants and he was barefoot. Haytham paused himself after hearing the wild snarls of grey wolves below him. The wolves were definitely being intimidated by something somewhat distant, but instead carried on the other way. Soon after, Connor into view. Likely, the assassin decided to leave his wolf hood at the manor. The wolves continued with their growling as Connor came closer to their area, right below Haytham, but soon the dogs of the frontier gave up and trotted off somewhere else. Clearly, Connor was the embodiment of the wolf, of the alpha male. No wolf shall attack him. Oh, no. Not when they stare into those deep blue eyes. Those deep blue eyes like a deep blue moon. No wolf shall hurt him anymore.

Connor paused at mid-step. "How long have you been around, father?"

"Not long, I assure you."

Silence went on for the kill once more. Finally, Connor broke it. "I want to apologize for what I had said earlier…"

"Hm? There is no need for an apology." Haytham dropped down onto Connor's shoulders, a foot on each side. "Son, all you gave me was a sense of your reality. You were being honest to me, and I completely understand your perspective. I may have been somewhat… passive when I was flesh, however, everything that has happened to you has made a significant mark in your life and simply saying 'sorry' will not ever clean up that very mark that has tainted your life for so long. If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me, for sounding very half-hearted." Connor began to walk with his father squatting on his shoulders. "But father…"

"Quit it, son. A true Kenway does not dwell into what they should have done or said," Haytham pointed his finger ahead, cape flying in the wind. "A true Kenway looks forward into the possibilities of the future." Connor could not help but smile at this. Haytham was reciting the words of his own father. "But speaking of names, what did Ziio name you?"

"She named me _Ratonhnhaké:ton_."


End file.
